


just a little bit is all i'm asking for

by literato



Series: Song Fics [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Song fic, i like el alright, psh thats a lie, thats a lie too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 15:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11151279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literato/pseuds/literato
Summary: Harry has his eyes closed, and all he can see at the black space of his eyelids, her hands gripping Louis’, her lips touching Louis’, her skin against Louis’, her job to replace what could’ve been Harry’s place a long fucking time ago.ora fic inspired by Harry Styles' Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart (performed by Ariana Grande)





	just a little bit is all i'm asking for

**Author's Note:**

> Another angsty one lmao. I dont think its too angsty tho do ur fine psh.

_I don’t ever ask you where you’ve been, and I don’t feel the need to know who you’re with._

  
Harry stirs awake from kisses planted repeatedly all over his back. He makes a complaining sound before he opens his eyes to see Louis there, smelling of alcohol and smoke and sweat as he tries to map his apologies out on Harry’s skin.

  
Harry looks at their clock and sees it’s too early for him to identify time right now, but he shrugs Louis off and covers himself with their duvet, tugging it until his chin and curling up.

  
“Babe.” Louis says. At least he’s not slurring out nonsense.

  
“Let me sleep.” But Harry’s system itself isn’t letting his kid do so. He simple stares out at the wall in front of him.

  
“I’m so—“

  
“I know.” Harry clenches his eyes shut, tugging at the duvet closer to him. He releases his hanging breath as Louis sighs and walk out of their room and into the bathroom.

  
Harry takes that moment to collect himself, scrubbing at the drying edges of his eyes and flicking off the lamp so Louis can’t see how red and tired they are.

  
Louis comes back later, thankfully free from the stench of wherever the hell he’s been. Harry hears some shuffling around and a few moments later, he feels the bed dip behind him. Louis’ arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

  
“They wanted me to take her out.” Louis answers, voice rough, “Make some good pictures, all that.”

  
Harry doesn’t answer.

  
“Haz?” Louis asks, even leaning over slightly to peek at Harry. He doesn’t say anything more when he sees Harry’s eyes closed, and he drops a kiss to his boyfriend’s shoulder before murmuring, “I love you.”

  
_I can’t even think straight but I can tell that you were just with her_

  
Harry’s sprawled on the sofa, his notebook on his stomach and his pencil on his hand, going back and forth between tapping it against his thigh and chewing on it with his teeth. He just came home from a morning run, having been papped a shit ton to let people know he’s still alive. But like, barely.

  
Suddenly, oh so, suddenly, the door to their house swings open just as fast as it was slammed closed. Harry jumps from the loud noise, sitting up when suddenly Louis strides to him and takes his face in his hand, kissing him fiercely.

  
Harry has not seen him all morning, having woken up without Louis beside him and a simple note of him going out. For once, Harry thought it was a real, genuine errand, like pick up groceries or pay the freaking bills.

  
Well, he should’ve known.

  
Louis drops himself to Harry’s lap, straddling his hips without removing the connection his lips. Harry’s kissing him back, confused but dazed enough to follow through. It isn’t until Louis trails his kisses to Harry’s neck that the latter notices something.

  
Louis’ coat smells a little something of their laundry wash, and a little something of a women’s perfume. 

  
Harry would hate to pull away, but right now all he wants to do is just that.

  
“Haz?” Louis asks, the worry showing between the furrow of his eyebrows.

  
Harry has his eyes closed, and all he can see at the black space of his eyelids, _her_ hands gripping Louis’, _her_ lips touching Louis’, _her_ skin against Louis’, _her_ job to replace what could’ve been Harry’s place a long fucking time ago.

  
Harry swallows down a sob as he pulls himself completely away from Louis, pushing the latter away so he can stand up and just... just stand there with his back to Louis. He knows Louis’ watching his every move, and he knows he’s acting a little crazy – with his wide eyes and teeth biting on nails and nose breathing like it wasn’t supposed to—but he can’t help himself.

  
_And I’ll still be a fool. I’m a fool for you_.

  
Arms circle from behind him and a chin is hooked over his shoulder, then Louis’ voice is heard, “I’m sorry.”

  
Harry turns around and wraps his arms around Louis, choking on a sob but nodding over and over again.

  
He doesn’t know how long he’s standing there being held and holding on, but Louis pulls away just enough so he could look at Harry.

  
“I love you.” He says.

  
“And I love you.” Harry answers.

 

_Just a little bit of your heart is all I want_

  
Harry stares at himself in the mirror as Lou combs through his hair, using a hairdryer as she styles it into a quiff. He keeps on checking his phone, waiting for Louis’ text that he’s arrive or something.

  
As if on cue, Harry looks up as the door behind them opens. He grins, looking through the mirror of the reflection. It only widens when Louis comes in and he can hear a scoff from Lou. But it falls just as quick when Eleanor walks in, following behind Louis and she immediately sees Harry’s eye through the mirror and she offers a small smile and a wave.

  
Harry gulps and looks away, blinking.

  
“Hi love.” Louis greets, bending down to put his hands on his knees so he’s leveled with Harry, looking at him through the mirror, “Beautiful.” He mouths.

  
Harry blushes.

  
Louis stands back up and sits on the corner of the couch opposite from Eleanor, propping a leg up and engaging into a conversation with her.

Harry’s finished after a few minutes, and he stands and moves out of the way, excusing himself to the loo.

  
He spends his time there longer than he thought. It isn’t until Niall peeks through the door and tells him it’s time.

  
“Y’ alright, buddy?” Niall asks, swinging a hand around his shoulders as they walk towards the backstage, ready to get their ear pieces and microphones.

  
“Peachy.” Harry murmurs, offering an unconvinced Niall a tight smile.

  
“Hm, I can tell.” Niall says but says nothing more.

  
They meet Liam and Louis who’s having yet another banter, earpieces on and microphones in hand. As Niall and Harry fish theirs, Louis says, “Well, there you are, Hazza!”

  
Harry feels him approaching, and he also sees the camera filming them, and the footsteps stop. He walks into the circle and he sees Louis’ torn up expression, quickly covered up in a smile as they do a little group hug before getting into their place.

  
Harry has always loved being on stage. It gives him adrenaline coursing through him and he can almost not care about anything. Almost.

  
They’re singing Little Things, sat side by side on the stairs on the stage with Harry and Louis on both ends. Harry sings his part, letting his eyes wander until they land on Louis. The lads gives a knowing smirk. But Louis’ oblivious.

  
He’s making a show of waving at someone offstage. Which, fine. But then Harry sees and sees Eleanor waving back and it doesn’t feel fine anymore.

  
He doesn’t look at Louis for the rest of the show.

  
_Just a little bit is all I’m asking for_

  
“H.” Louis calls, pulling on a different, less sweat covered, shirt as he makes a beeline for Harry who’s making a beeline to the other lads,, “Harry!”

  
“What is it, Lou?” Harry asks, stopping but not turning around, “You have to parade her around some more, don’t you?” He unclenches his fists and eventually faces the love of his life.

  
“What.. I-I—“ Louis stammers, “I just wanted to see if you’re alright."

  
Harry snaps, “What do you think?” And then his face falls, “I’m sorry, I—“ He looks around, sees the people still hustling around.

  
Louis doesn’t stop, “You know I can’t do anything about it. I mean, what am I supposed to do?”

  
Harry doesn’t answer. He continues to walk away, cursing at himself as he follows Niall and Liam.

  
Walking out to get to their car is as difficult as it can be. Niall and Liam are first, going out to the door with Paul and Paddy as they walk to the car parked right outside. Harry’s left inside with Louis and Eleanor. How peachy.

  
Louis’ not reaching out to him, but only because attention are on them and he doesn’t ever want to risk it. Harry gets his turn, thank God, moments later. It’s a little crowded, and despite being tired, he manages to give the fans his signs and some pictures with them. He walks into a van.

  
Paul says, “Other way, kid.” He tugs Harry towards the other way.

  
Harry only blinks before he turns around, and he bumps right into Louis. He gulps and walks past them, tries not to look down on Louis’ hands on Eleanor’s shoulders to guide her to their car. Their car. Alone. In their car.

  
He doesn’t look back, but Louis does.

  
_I don’t ever tell you how I really feel because I can’t find the words to say what I mean._

  
In days after their last show in a little while, Harry’s spent it mostly to himself, writing in his journal or going out and catching up with friends.

Louis’ spending his with Eleanor, because Chris, their head manager, says they should squeeze everything in during their limited time together.

  
So Harry, being Harry, spends more time with his friends, barely looking at Louis in the eye even if they fall in the same bed every night.

  
Tonight, Harry comes home quite late, having caught up with a few friends (he has a lot) during dinner. It’s not a surprise that Louis’ home first, but it’s a surprise that Louis actually approaches him.

  
A surprise because they barely acknowledge each other anymore, and whenever Louis would try, Harry would brush him off.

  
“What is it?” Harry asks, stripping to his boxers right in front of Louis’ eyes from where the latter’s followed him to their room.

  
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Louis asks back, “Why the hell you’ve been avoiding me like the plague?”

  
“I was out, Louis.” Harry slips on a shirt before he grabs his used clothes, throwing them in the hamper, “You were, too.”

  
“But only because I had to.” Louis says, and if Harry’s thinking straight, it’s like his boyfriend’s tone is nearing desperation.

  
“I can’t exactly stay in here and mope around, jesus.” Harry groans, running a hand through his hair as he begins making the bed, hating how messy and unmade it looks.

  
“I was here sometimes but you were almost everyday even if you knew.” Louis argues back weakly, “I know why you’re acting like this. It’s not exactly my choice either to parade her, H. Why are you acting like I actually want this?”

  
Harry throws the sheet in frustration, “Because it kills me. I hate how our situation is right now. I hate how I know you wouldn’t be able to do those things you do with her to _me_. You can hold her hand in public, make heart eyes at her and no one bats a bloody eye.”

  
“You think I don’t feel that?” Louis shrugs weakly, “I mean, you wouldn’t know. You’re acting like my... my enemy when we’re both to stand against this.”

  
Harry doesn’t answer, but he’s sure the gears in his head rewind.

  
“I need you as much as you need me.” Louis sniffles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “Sucks you think I’m actually okay with hurting you—“

  
“I’m not.” Harry cuts him off, “I just—I can’t do this anymore.” He blurts out, voice breaking, “It’s been years and nothing’s different.”

  
“So you’re giving up?” Louis asks, “That’s it?”

  
Harry takes a moment to rethink it. Everything. Their everything.

  
“Okay.” Louis says weakly, nodding as if he supplied the answer to himself with Harry’s silence, “Then I’ll just—“

  
“No.” Harry says firmly, “No, I’m not giving up.”

  
Louis looks at him with his eyes so unreadable. But Harry can almost see the relief in them. Harry sighs, dropping himself on the bed as if he’s tired, “I... Can I go back away for a little bit?”

  
Louis visibly gulps, “In London?” Harry shrugs, unsure.

  
“Why?”

  
“Just...” Harry breathes out, can’t think of anymore words.

  
“Okay, yeah. Y-You can.” Louis hesitates, “When?”

  
“During the break.” Harry says.

  
“But—“ _We had so many plans for the break – finish decorating the house, write more songs, go bloody golfing, finish all Disney movies—_ “Okay.” Louis says, straining himself, “Yeah, okay.”

  
Harry must’ve senses Louis’ pain, or whatever, because he stands up and rounds the bed, taking Louis’ hands, “This isn’t over.” He promises, “Not now, not ever. I just... need to go away... for a bit.”

  
“That’s okay.” It really is, but Louis can’t stop his chest from tightening. He squeezes Harry’s hands right back, “I love you.” He says, “Only you.”

  
_And nothing’s ever easy, that’s what they say_

  
“He’s doing... alright, I guess.” Liam answers with uncertainty, “We hang out often and he says he misses you a lot. How about you?”

  
Harry sighs, wanting to say the words back, “I’m okay. Doing a lot of song writing.”

  
“Do we have to sing sappy songs again?” Liam teases with a groan.

  
“Shut up.” Harry chuckles, “This is the only way we can express our love for each other in public so sod off.” Wow, way to be depressing.

  
“Haz.” Liam says, “If there’s anything you two should do, it’s to trust each other and remain strong.”

  
Harry bites on his bottom lip, Cause you make me strong, he remembers briefly and – oh right, Liam, “I know, Li. It’s just... it’s difficult, dealing with it.”

  
“It’s supposed to be, yeah? And it makes me proud how you two are still holding up.” Liam praises, “

  
“I just hope it’ll turn right in the end.”

  
“Hey.” Liam suddenly says, “If it makes you feel better, Louis mentioned a couple of times that the contract is nearly over.”

  
“Ah.” Harry nods. He doesn’t know that, but he feels his heart hammering extra hard at the news, “That’s... that’s good, then.”

  
“I can feel your smile, H.”

  
Harry bites down on his lips, “No you don’t.”

  
_I know I’m not your only but I’ll still be a fool._

  
Harry has his pencil pinned behind his ear as he strums his guitar, leaning back against his couch and his feet propped into his coffee table. He flips back to the pages he’s written before, pursing his lips at the poetic words.

He’s not gonna lie. Whenever Harry writes, it’s always Louis who pops in his mind ever single time. It’s supposed to be frustrating, but the songs that result from would always end up as Harry’s favorite.

  
But today it’s like his mind is drained.

  
He puts down his guitar with a sigh and unmutes the telly, leaning forward to grab his berry smoothie to finish it. After flipping several channels, he lands on the news eventually. Of course, _of course._ Fate hates him.

  
“One Direction’s Louis Tomlinson and long term girlfriend Eleanor Calder to get married? He thinks she’s ‘the one’.”

  
The reporter continues to prattle on how ‘ _straight up goals_ ’ they both are while doing a slideshow of their pictures. Harry closes his eyes as the words, ‘ _contract is nearly over_ ’ repeats over and over in his head.

  
Harry looks down on his own hands, seeing the rings adorning his fingers. His lips twitch into a smile. It’s like half of his ring collection came from Louis, each with a different meaning.

  
He sighs, muting the telly to continue writing.

  
_‘Cause I’m a fool for you_

  
Harry inserts the key through the keyhole, holding his breath as he opens the door and carries his duffel bag inside. Dropping it by the door, he removes and hangs his coat and listens to any noise.

  
He hasn’t texted nor called Louis in the matter of weeks they’ve separated. If Louis was out, it’d be a real bummer.

  
But, thankfully, he finds a lump in their bed, completely covered and burrowed into their duvet and pillows. It moves when Harry opens the door and lets himself in. Louis sits up, the duvet dropping to his shoulders as he takes in the sight of his boyfriend.

  
He sobs.

  
Harry panics, eyes turning wide as he immediately goes to Louis’ side and pulling him in his arms, “Lou, what—what’s wrong?” He pets at Louis’ hair but it does nothing to calm the older lad. The sounds are cutting through him.

  
It’s a while when Louis pulls away, and his face is tear-streaked and his eyes are red. He takes a few deep breaths before he says, “They want me to marry her.”

  
Harry freezes altogether, he’s sure that even his heart stops beating for a second, “What?” He asks.

  
“I’m sorry.” Louis whimpers, “I tried real hard to—to convince that it wouldn’t do shit to my name but—“ and then he’s dissolving into more tears.

  
Harry feels like utter shit. He’s completely abandoned the love of his life when Louis’ suffering from whatever the fuck their team’s throwing his way. Why is it always Louis? Why is it always Louis who needs to have women to ‘better his image’? Why?

  
“I’m sorry.” Harry kisses his head and hugs him tighter, “I haven’t been in here with you a-and I didn’t know—“

  
“I want to break up.”

  
This time, Harry’s heart does stop breathing. He’s breathing hard and heavy as he nervously chuckles out, “Louis, what—“

  
Louis pulls away from him, covering his face with his hands as he says, “Please go.”

  
Harry fishmouths, “Louis—“

 

“Go!” Louis yells.

  
Harry feels the word hit him right in the chest. He chokes on a sob, running a hand through his hair as he stares at Louis as a silent plead.

  
“Just go.” Louis says, much more calmly.

  
Harry shakes his head, turning and exiting through the door, making sure to slam it closed that he hears a slight creak on the door frame.

  
_I know I’m not your only but at least I’m one. I heard a little love is better than none_

  
Harry drops his pencil from his hand. He’s leaning on his desk facing the window, resting his head on his arm as his tears pathetically wet the paper. He’s going to have to rewrite it later, when he’s in a much better state.

  
The lyrics he wrote is ironic. And he wants to laugh at it. Laugh and cry and just tear it to pieces like what Louis’ done to him.

  
_Little love_ , Harry scoffs to himself.

Rewrite, ... right.

  
It’s Saturday when he and Ariana meet up at her studio. He tries his best not to be seen, and he does it successfully. It’s hours of demos and recording and trying not to pry at the personality of the song, and soon Ariana’s hugging and praising Harry for such a beautiful and meaningful song.

  
Harry goes home feeling empty.

 

_Just a little bit of your heart_

  
“Mate, mate, Lou!”

  
Louis doesn’t bother recognizing the voice, but when the said person jumps into his bed and annoyingly disturbing his gradual emotional death, he knows it’s Niall.

  
“Fuck off.” Louis grumbles, tucking himself further in the sheets.

  
“Just.. see this!” The sheets are ripped away from him and a phone is being jabbed to his face.

  
Louis mutters curses and he snatches the phone, sitting up. It’s a video of Ariana Grande performing, and Louis raises an eyebrow at Niall.

  
“Jesus, you’re thick.” Niall rolls his eyes and grabs the phone, reading a line out loud, “Ariane Grande cries while singing Harry Styles’ Just a Little Bit of Yo—“

  
Louis grabs it again, holding Niall’s phone with both hands as he tries to even his breathing. He’s pretty sure a heart attack is just around the corner.

  
The video starts, and it starts with Ariana’s beautiful harmony and calming voice, but the longer she sings the clearer he hears _Harry’s_ voice. And Louis can see it. He can how Harry’s hands as they scribble down line after line and sings note after note, how Harry’s heart screams the words what his mouth cannot, how Harry’s tears occupy the spaces in the paper he’s written, how Harry’s every single thought and insecurities and emotions poured into one song.

  
Before the song’s over, Louis’ sobbing and he’s dropping Niall’s phone from his terribly shaking hands. He pushes away from Niall’s reaching arms and snatches his keys from his nightstand before he gets up on his legs, taking him to the love of his life.

  
_Just a little bit of your heart_

  
A knock sounds from Harry’s door, and he perks up from his position on the couch. He abandons his blankets and pillows (and Louis’ jumper) to open it, scrubbing at his eyes. He freezes, though, his hand dropping to his side as he says, “Lou...”

  
Louis’ hugging him. He’s got his arms around Harry’s torso and his face on Harry’s neck as he squeezes him tighter than he’s ever held onto anything in his whole life. He’s sobbing out apologies so hysterically that Harry can’t understand him.

  
Harry pulls away then, letting Louis hold onto him as he looks into his blue, blue eyes. They look so painful and so, so guilty. Louis’ face crumples, “I’m sorry.” He looks down in shame, sniffling, “I’m really sorry, Harry.” He whimpers, voice breaking at the end.

  
“Why, Louis?” Harry asks, and he wants to say more, wants to demand _why would you leave me when I’m so willing to hurt for you? It bloody hurt but I stayed and I still want you even if you don’t._

  
“I saw your song.” Louis says, voice much clearer, “I heard it. I heard you, Harry.” He inhales through his mouth heavily, a pathetic technique to calm himself, “And I hate myself for making you leave. I don’t mean it, Haz. I don’t mean it.” He repeats, desperately trying to make Harry believe him.

  
Harry believes him.

  
“And—And I didn’t want to see you all broken because of what they’re doing to me.” Louis shakes his head, “They can tell me all the shit they want me to but I didn’t want it to affect you. They can hurt me but not you. I _can’t_ let that happen.”

  
Harry softens, feels his own tears start up again. He just stopped crying hours ago, damnit.

  
“’S why I-I... somehow I tried to get you to hate me, tried to leave you without any explanation—“

  
“It didn’t work.” Harry rasps out, “ _Nothing_ will ever work. Nothing can stop me from loving you. Not even you, Louis.”

  
Louis lets out a wet giggle, and he nods, “I know. Fuck, I know.”

  
Harry kisses him, the first time in what seems like the longest time. Their hearts are poured into it, a simple kiss. Just a hard touch of their lips with Harry’s hand at the back of Louis’ neck and Louis letting him, his own arms circled around Harry’s waist.

  
When they pull apart, they lean in each other’s foreheads. Louis’ the first one to speak, “You have my heart.” He says, “Every _bit_ , Harry. Every bit of it.”

  
Harry kisses him again.

**Author's Note:**

> ❤


End file.
